


Both

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Ficlet, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, PWP, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:16:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29851749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis shares his alpha on the road.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 15
Kudos: 81





	Both

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Prompto bites his bottom lip and makes the most adorable, most erotic whining sound that Noctis has ever heard, back arching off the cream-white sheets as his head rolls back, his blue eyes somewhere else entirely. Noctis runs his fingers back through Prompto’s hair and tries to turn Prompto towards him—it works, like it always does; Prompto always comes when Noctis calls. He stares into Noctis’ very soul, blushing just as hard as Noctis is, but breathing harder, trembling, and he’s so _cute_ that Noctis swells with love. He leans in to rub their noses together, nuzzling into Prompto’s cheek, licking over the corner of Prompto’s mouth and all his subtle freckles. Prompto moans and nuzzles him back, then practically screams in Noctis’ ear. 

Noctis knows that he can’t help it. Ignis can go at any speed—sensually slow and tantalizingly soft, or fierce as a behemoth and _brutal_ , and that’s what Prompto asked for. As Ignis gracefully peeled off his clothes and casually asked what Prompto would like, Prompto whispered _wreck me_. Noctis shivered and made Ignis promise not to go _too_ hard. Sure, Prompto’s a Crownsguard as strong as any of them, but he’s still Noctis’ little chocochick, and Noctis doesn’t think he could stand to see Prompto cry. 

He loves seeing Ignis drive Prompto so perilously close to that. Ignis bears over him, propped up on all fours, but one arm easily maneuvering out of the way whenever Noctis gets too close to Prompto’s side. He just can’t help himself—he keeps doing it. He knows it’s supposed to be Prompto’s turn. His own heat’s subsiding, and Ignis already thoroughly took care of him. He took Ignis so deep that he thinks he’ll still feel the ache for days. He wouldn’t let Ignis clean the mess up, not yet. He’s sticky and wet and physically exhausted, but emotionally, _he loves Prompto so much._ He half wishes he were an alpha so he could be the one ploughing into Prompto’s pliant body and know it would actually sooth the raging heat inside him, but then he wouldn’t get to watch Ignis do it, so maybe this is for the best.

Instead, Noctis just lies beside them, affectionately petting Prompto’s hair while Ignis fucks him senseless. Ignis seems to have no problem with the arrangement. Maybe it should bother Noctis, how very _professional_ his advisor’s being—keeping enough distance to allow Noctis more room and not pausing with the little words and strokes he always pays to Noctis, but then, this is just a part of how Ignis is. He’s so suave—cool to the last. He has both of Prompto’s thick thighs hiked over his lap and slides into Prompto over and over again with merciless ease. He takes Prompto in long, virile thrusts that make Prompto’s toes curl behind Ignis’ back. Prompto’s entire body is slick with sweat, glistening in the low light of the motel. 

Wherever Gladiolus is, he’s really missing out. But knowing him, he probably picked up some stranger to have a blast with next door. Or maybe he’ll wander in in a few minutes and demand to be included, and Noctis will break, and the two alphas will take turns with Prompto while Noctis lazily watches. 

He’s so lucky. He kisses Prompto’s cheek, and Prompto whimpers and glances at him, looking so beautifully debauched. Every thrust pushes him up against the headboard, just short of hitting it, then drags him right back. They’re sharing the same pillow. He mumbles dazedly, like the words are hard to come by, “Noct... thank you _so much_ for lending me your alpha... seriously... I’m so grateful...” It comes out slurred, his normally sing-song voice littered with little hitches of breath and frantic gasps. 

Noctis pecks him on the lips and mutters, “Thank Ignis.”

Prompto nods, chewing his bottom lip again. His head rolls to face the gorgeous creature claiming him, and he parrots like a broken doll, “Thanks, Ignis.” Even with the jumbled voice, he looks totally sincere. Noctis knows he’s _loving it._ Noctis knows every little thing about Prompto’s body, even if Ignis is the one he always goes to for his own heats. He has to. A fellow omega can’t assuage so intense a storm, but they still mess around every chance they get.

He used to feel guilty for it. He thought he really _should be Ignis’_ , but he also worried Ignis was just helping him out of a sense of duty, and he was too afraid to clarify. And he couldn’t resist Prompto. But he loves Ignis too. It’s such a privilege to watch them together. There’s no jealousy in him. It’s way too hot for that. 

He’s already come so much, all at Ignis’ hands, sometimes with Prompto rubbing against him and moaning, tempting him into oblivion. But he still finds himself stirring against Ignis’ knee. He doesn’t have the energy to hump the mass of writhing bodies before him, but he thinks about it. 

He thinks about Prompto’s puckered asshole and how good it tastes when they’re in the thick of things. He wonders if Ignis enjoys it as much as he does. Maybe more. Alphas were _meant_ to fuck omegas. And Noctis can’t think of a better omega than the one lying beside him. He knows there are no better alphas, although Gladiolus is probably a close second. 

He sees the change in Ignis first—the tensing shoulders and the short intake of breath. Ignis’ glasses are on the nightstand, discarded like the rest of his clothes, so it’s easy to see the lust mounting up behind his eyes. He squeezes them shut when he comes, gritting his teeth and hissing quietly. There’s nothing more than that. He’s not the sort to scream or go twice as hard. He doesn’t stop either. His hips continue at the exact same even pace they were, fully dedicated to fucking Prompto. Noctis can tell when it’s over and isn’t surprised that Ignis just keeps going. 

Prompto doesn’t have long after that—couldn’t possibly. Noctis knows there’s nothing quite like feeling Ignis Scientia come inside you. Prompto’s the total opposite—he loses himself completely, crying out and clamping onto Noctis’ arm as he comes everywhere. Ignis dutifully reaches for Prompto’s cock—already pink and raw from all the stroking Prompto gave it, and a few light touches is all it takes to milk everything out. Prompto splatters both of their chests and Noctis’ side, but Noctis loves getting hit with the few stray flecks he does. 

He’d lean over to lick up the rest, but he’s too busy scattering Prompto’s face in kisses. Prompto groans and squirms under the assault, smiling delightfully. 

Ignis finally slows to a halt. He rises up, sitting there, still fully embedded inside Prompto’s tight channel. The room reeks of sex and warring pheromones, but Noctis can sense Prompto’s heat coming down. Around Noctis’ doting attention, Prompto mumbles, “’Mean it, Iggy... thanks...”

“I’m happy to oblige,” Ignis smoothly returns. “You’re a very sweet omega.”

Prompto smiles tiredly. He looks too satisfied to think straight—like Ignis really did fuck the brains right out of his skull. He always gets like that after sex. Noctis loves it. He loves it even more when Ignis bends down to place a fleeting kiss right on Prompto’s pink lips. Then he trails them along the other side of Prompto’s face, ending with a lingering one against Prompto’s temple. Prompto shudders almost violently before taking on an expression of pure bliss: it just feels _so good_ to be taken care of by a worthy alpha. And Ignis is the very best at it. That’s why Noctis had to have him help Prompto. 

Noctis murmurs into the crux of Prompto’s shoulder, “You okay, Specs...?”

“Hm?” Ignis is already reaching for the nightstand and fetching moist tissues to gently clean up Prompto’s stomach. But he stays inside, which Prompto seems quite happy with. 

“You always take such good care of us, but what about you? Could that really be enough for such a powerful alpha...?”

Ignis smiles thinly, like he sees right through Noctis’ game. He tends to wave it off like it’s nothing, like he just does what any good alpha would do and is no greater, but Noctis knows he’s so much _more_ than just a sex machine. He insists, “Of course. Prompto is more than enough on his own.” Prompto doesn’t react—he’s probably not listening anymore, too lost in the afterglow. Tossing the crumpled tissues towards the waste-bin and miraculously making the shot, Ignis adds, “But if you would like my attention again, you need only say so.”

Noctis’ cheeks are red. He knows he paws at Ignis too much. But he can’t stop himself from taking the offer. He loves Ignis too much. And he’s so wildly, intrinsically attracted to everything that Ignis is. 

Ignis benevolently lowers down to capture Noctis’ lips in a tender kiss. He continues to serve Noctis, while Prompto falls peacefully asleep between them.


End file.
